In 1984 it became very apparent that R.E.M. had a similarly indefinable chemistry. They were four identities who came together with perfect symmetry; each had individual qualities a fan could relate to, yet they performed together with the spirit of one. They were the gang that everyone wanted to be part of...
There was Michael Stipe, the artist. A lyricist who gave little of himself away, sang in riddles and metaphors and was at his most content working with visual imagery, whose love of his parents was total, but who preferred isolation.
There was Peter Buck, the rocker. A music fan of unusual sincerity who longed for nothing more than the next opportunity to get on stage and play, whose reputation for partying preceded him and whose opinions he could not keep to himself.
There was Mike Mills, the musician. A classically trained performer, accomplished on several instruments and responsible for the intriguing nuances that so distinguished his group's music, whose studied expression belied his sense of adventure.
There was Bill Berry, the businessman. An intelligent, hardworking professional who put paid the myth that drummers were the followers, not leaders, whose determination saw the group through many so early obstacle and whose songwriting contribution was not to be ignored.